Forever
by Angel Wings Rinoa Cathy-chan
Summary: Aragorn before the War of the Ring. His feelings and thoughts after Gilraen's death, and the loneliness and fate he has to endure. Based on the book. Please read and review!


**Forever**  
by: Angel Wings Rinoa (Cathy-chan)  
  
*I never thought I'd make a songfic for LotR --since I'm not very good at writing songfics or short stories-- but here it is. Just like my previous fanfic, "Aure Entuluva," this is about Aragorn several decades before the War of the Ring. Therefore, the story is based on what I've read in the Appendix and a bit of Silmarillion too. The song itself sounds sad and somewhat Celtic with an acoustic guitar and keyboard strings. The song's short, and the story's in his point of view (not first person though); so there's going to be more narration than lyrics. Comments are always welcomed! Enjoy the fic!  
  
**Disclaimers: **Obviously I don't own Aragorn, Middle-earth or LotR. They're all JRR Tolkien's. This is a typical fan's dedication to his amazing work. ^_^  
  
**Performed by: **Stratovarius  
**Music and words:** Timo Tolkki  
**Album: **Episode  
  
**Note: **~~~~~~: Flashbacks  
~ and italics: song lyrics  
  
  
In the cold eve of spring, wandering Men from the north brought Aragorn tidings of Gilraen his mother, bidding him to come quickly. Her strength was fading. Hastily he rode to Eriador. Dearly did he desire to return to his mother's side to give comfort. He knew in his heart that her time was nigh. When he last met her, she was burdened with her mortal years. Yet he never expected her to leave the Circles of the World so soon after his departure.  
He did not come in time to see her before she died. In the hours after sunset, he arrived at her grave. She seemed to be merely asleep on the grass among flowers and leaves. Gilraen's silver hair draped about her wizened face. In the state of eternal slumber the fair daughter of Dirhael looked peaceful; the dignity and strength of her kin upon her face.   
For more than three decades he endured great peril and hardship. Although, at seeing her lifeless form, it was only then did he truly feel alone and without hope. She, with her sharp mind and gentle heart, had always been his source of strength. How would the dark winter of his sorrow pass without her?  
  
~_I stand alone in the darkness  
The winter of my life came so fast_~  
  
Many people of the Dunedain who knew Arathorn's wife came to pay their respects. They spoke words of solace to her only son, but Aragorn was not comforted. It was not the manner of Gilraen's passing that pained him --he was relieved to know that she died peacefully during sleep. It was the last words she had said that did. With a heavy heart he recalled their last conversation together...  
  
~~~~~~  
  
'This is our last parting, Estel, my son. I am aged by care even as one of lesser Men; and now that it draws near I cannot face the darkness of our time that gathers upon Middle-earth. I shall leave it soon.'  
Aragorn tried to comfort her, saying: 'Yet there might be a light beyond the darkness; and if so, I would have you see it and be glad.'  
'Onen i-Estel Edain, u-chebin estel anim. (I gave Hope to the Dunedain; I have kept no hope for myself.)'  
  
It grieved him that his mother had not seen any hope beyond despair. It pained him even more that she would not see the rise of Men, if that was possible. To keep him safe, Gilraen kept him in the reaches of Rivendell after Arathorn's death. Moreover, he was called Estel, 'hope' in the elven tongue, to keep Isildur's heir a secret from the Dark Lord. For a score of years he lived in his mother and the elves' care, blissful as an insignificant mortal. Until the master of Imladris saw that his doom had come. How things have changed since then! Alas! his bright, youthful days in his foster-brother's company had vanished like the fleeting West wind. Aragorn could still recall the green fields, the clear skies above birch trees, the faces of Elrohir and Elladan smiling down on him...  
  
~_Memories go back to childhood  
To days I still recall  
Oh how happy I was then  
There was no sorrow there was no pain  
Walking through the green fields  
Sunshine in my eyes_~  
  
~~~~~~  
  
'Estel,' Elladan called after him, 'such hasty steps are unwise on the river's edge. Come! Your mother is expecting us home soon.'  
Estel shielded his eyes from the sun's brilliant rays as he hopped from one large rock to another. 'But this is farthest I have travelled. I want to see the river Bruinen. They say it is beautiful; I want to see for myself.'  
'But your mother clearly told us not to take you near its waters.' The young boy did not hear the last words through the crashing of Bruinen's waves on the ford.  
'Did he hear me or is he disregarding my words?' he asked his twin.  
'I would say both, brother,' Elrohir answered, grinning.  
'This is no time to be amused. Estel knows naught of his folly.'  
He laughed. '"Folly," brother? He is a child, he has lived for only a dozen years. He cares not of danger; he is merely being young. Let him. Gilraen needs not know.'  
Elladan's brows delicately creased. 'That is no excuse; he may trip and be washed away by the current.'  
'You know he has better footing than that. You say he is reckless, but I say it's from an adventurous heart. Ah, my brother, you have obviously forgotten what it's like to be young.'  
Elladan chuckled. 'Well it has been more than two thousands years.' After silently watching the boy giggle to himself on each rock he jumped, he said quietly, 'The Gift from the One is truly great,' He saw his twin's curious look. 'They do not see all the burdens of the world from beginning to end; only as a brief lifetime. Long has it been since I last saw a carefree heart.'  
'Yes,' he nodded an agreement, 'mortal adolescence is an enlightening sight. I have learned a lot while seeing Estel grow so fast before us.'  
'Elladan! Elrohir! These waters are wide and clear,' Estel shouted to them through the noise. 'Can one pass through it on a horse? What is beyond this stream?' he asked eagerly while climbing a tall boulder on the river's edge.  
'Those questions can be answered at home, child. Your mother is waiting,' Elladan came and stood behind the boy. His brother followed wordlessly, a grin lingering on his lips. He offered a long, pale hand. 'Come down from there.'  
'Can we wait until the sun sets? Bruinen must be lovely at dusk.'  
Elrohir was about to reply when they saw a woman with long, dark brown hair walk towards them. 'Another time, Estel. Have I not told you and Elrond's sons to be home hours ago?' She extended her hand and, as he took it, he was carried down the huge rock.  
'Mother! Did you get here by yourself?'  
'No, I followed a company of Elves on their journey.' She gestured to a small group clad in grey at a short distance. 'I would have waited, but I wanted to see for myself what kept you away for so long.'  
'Bruinen, mother. 'Tis very beautiful, just like they said it would be!'  
Gilraen smiled kindly. 'Yes, it is, Estel. It is as lovely as it is strong; it protects the borders of Imladris.' Her son's eyes brightened with curiosity. 'But I will tell you of it another time.' She turned to the twins, and she frowned a little, but she still looked amused. 'Could it be that Master Elrond's sons are no longer able to keep their promises? I thought you would bring him home on time as I have asked.'  
'My apologies, Lady Gilraen,' said Elladan. 'Your son, he's...er...' he laughed softly, unable to curb it, 'evasive of our guidance.'  
'Fortunate for you, dear friends, I know of a way to take his mind away from daring journeys.' With Estel's hand in hers and the brothers following them, she led them to the path back to Rivendell. 'If you vow to stay within Imladris for the next few days, I will tell you a tale from the Men of the North.'  
'Another one from your people?' he asked excitedly. 'Oh, please, mother. Tell me! What is this one about? Of the Dunedain's great warriors? Of Rangers?'  
'No, this legend is one of the oldest that had been written. It is of the great land that lay between Middle-earth and Grey Haven. Numenore, it was called; a gift from the Valar. In this land the first King of Men abided. He was called Elros, son of Earendil and Elwing...Yes, Estel, he is the brother of Master Elrond. As both children to elf and mortal, they had a choice of either race. He chose to stay with the Numenoreans. There he built a great kingdom, full of wisdom, art and strength...'  
  
Distantly in Aragorn's ears, he could still hear the rest of the story spoken in Gilraen's voice. He let the echo of the words tarry until they disappeared. Hours he knelt on the ground remembering while gazing at his mother's peaceful form on the grass. He desired mostly to return to Rivendell and its people. They would want to know of Gilraen's death. But he could not stay for long. Nor could he return to the Elves, to where his heart lay. Great unrest troubled the eastern sky; Sauron's devices and thralls were at work. As the Ranger, Strider, he had much to do.  
For many years, he laboured against the Shadow. Often would he be alone, braving through harsh lands or helping Gandalf on an important task. Yet ever his thoughts strayed to Imladris --to the family and land he loved dearly.  
  
~_I'm still there everywhere_~  
  
Despite his heart's wish, his path was elsewhere from the one to Rivendell. His fate was to do great deeds and travel from one distant, mysterious land to another. Never to delay in one place or take rest at peaceful grounds. It was the way of a Ranger. In essence Rangers were evasive, cunning, unseen and swift, like the northern star briefly appearing in the night or the dust and wind on the ground. As a vanishing memory, they were; no one knew of the noble deeds they had done but themselves.  
  
~_I'm the dust in the wind  
I'm the star in the northern sky  
I never stay anywhere  
I'm the wind in the trees_~  
  
Yet wherever the road took him, he saw his old elven-home, upon green hills beside silver waters, in dreams. When he closed his eyes, he could clear hear the stream and the voices of Elves as if he was there. And somewhere in the valleys of Imladris or Lothlorien, there walked an elf-maiden who vowed to wait for him, the one who would alleviate the loneliness in his life.  
  
~_Would you wait for me forever?_~  
  
How long Isildur's heir had to withstand through the wars, loneliness and hardship --another year, another five decades-- no one could foretell. In time, he would either conquer or fail in reclaiming his place as a great king of Men. Until then, if he stayed true and brave at opposing the Shadow, he would return to his love's arms and into a new day full of light.   
  
~_...Will you wait for me...forever?_~  
  
**Author's Note: **Hope you can forgive any grammatical errors in this fic; I never had a great talent for precise English. This is also in the fashion of how Tolkien writes, but only a little. The story could've stood on its own, but I thought the song's lyrics fits well. Plus it's what inspired me to write this fic. I know it doesn't focus on a direct progression of events, but I wanted this to be a fic that showed what he felt and thought. I also like making stories about his past because I think it's really important to how he came to be and his decisions during the War of the Ring. I'm thinking of making another story, one that ties into this songfic, but I'm not sure if I should. And I'm not sure what to write about next. What do you think? Should I make a sequel or a connecting story to this? Thank you very much for reading it! You are more than welcome to give me comments or critique. 


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